Boromir and Wyniel
by SarahNM
Summary: Boromir from child to death. He falls in love but encounters tragedy. Short chapters! A revision of an older story of mine. R&R, please, but don't be mean, that's just not cool.
1. Boromir

_Okay, here goes. This is a revision of what I had done a few years ago. It follows the book and the movie in parts. Don't slam me for the original names, i'm not the greatest at that, but I think they're acceptable.The storywill be finished this time! R&R please, but don't be mean, that's just not cool._

_I don't own LotR_

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Boromir stood atop the high tower, looking down on the city planned for his ruling. Denethor would be expecting him soon for dinner, but it could wait. The sunset was breathtaking that night, but Boromir had hardly noticed. He was busy gazing at the city of Minas Tirith below him. The people appeared to be ants; busily rushing to and fro before the last rays of daylight had escaped from the sky. The 14-year-old wondered if he would ever walk as one with the people below him, in the streets of his city. Denthor had kept a close eye on him since his mother's death, which Boromir had recently come to terms with, having been distracted by his rigorous military training. At this moment, though, he only wondered if he would ever again be allowed to stroll in the fields outside the gate, like he once had during a break from the battles that sometimes threatened the city. But Minas Tirith was strong, and would remain.

Boromir slowly advanced towards the steps that led to the great hall of the Steward. On his way down he ran into his younger brother, Faramir.

"Father was expecting you long before now, Boromir." the younger boy gasped. Boromir placed his arm around his shoulder and together they descended down the stairs.

"How about tomorrow, just the two of us," Boromir began, ignoring his brother's statement, "go down to the main part of the city and have some new kind of fun?"

"With other people, you mean?" Faramir asked, amazed. Boromir nodded. "Sure! That is, if father allows it." Faramir said, smiling widely at the thought of escaping the walls of the Steward's Hall.


	2. A Trip In the City

_I believe this will be the longest chapter, so don't despair! I don't like long chapters, either. _

_I don't own LotR_

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The next day, after Boromir had gotten his father's permission to leave the gates of the hall, he and Faramir exited the main path and cut along an alley. They had no desire to stay to the streets, thinking that this would be their only adventure. After a few minutes of the path, Boromir grew weary of the sameness and pulled Faramir onto the main road through the city. Few people passed, and none seemed to recognize them as the Steward's sons. Boromir found this to be great, and burst happily into the first shop he saw. It was a bakery, and Boromir bought a loaf of bread with the little money he had. Just as they set foot outside after a quick chat with the baker, Faramir tripped on the doorstep, falling flat on his face. Boromir quickly pulled his brother up, examining him for injury. His knees and hands were scraped, and his trousers were torn at the knees. 

"I'm sorry, brother, I didn't mean to be so clumsy." Faramir apologized, almost crying. "Father will be so angry that I tore my clothes, he will never let us journey outside again!"

"Don't fret, Faramir, we'll get your trousers sewn." and Boromir led the boy back into the bakery.

"Pardon me, but would you know any seamstresses nearby?" he asked.

The baker chuckled.

"Had a spill, did you? Not to worry, I know just the place for you to go. I doubt the lady will be awake so early in the morning. Her daughter is sure to be up and about, though. You could try." and he told them directions to a widow who lived on the second level, along with the other displaced families, recent refugees from Osgiliath, which had experienced much turmoil in the last century. So the brothers set out at once, making their way slowly along the crowded streets.

The brothers stepped into the small hut, which above the door hung a sign: Hasunder's Linens, and the picture of a needle and thread carved into the thick block of wood. Inside was bright and airy despite the ancient, crumbling stone. Nobody was to be seen, only shelves full of all kinds of cloth and strings, and a wooden plank floor. A dark staircase led out of sight to the upstairs, where a little noise could be heard, like feet scuffling along the floorboards.

"Hello!" Boromir called out when no one appeared after a few minutes. A young girl (nearly immediately) bounded down the stairs.

"Co-ming!" she called, brushing a lock of brown hair out of her face. She swept around the banister and nearly leaped behind the counter. "How may I help you?" she asked and smiled. This apparently was the widow's daughter.

"I fell and I need my trousers fixed before I go home today." Faramir announced when Boromir failed to explain their plight right off, for he was blushing and cracking his knuckles in a nervous way.

"So, your pants need to be fixed, do they?" she asked. Faramir nodded. "Very well, what's your name?"

"Faramir, and this is my brother Boromir." Faramir replied.

"Very good, my name is Lothwyniel, but _please_ just call me Wyniel. Now sit down here for just a minute, and I'll be right back!" and the she bounded back up the stairs, disappearing for a few minutes.

When she came back down she held in her arms a grey bundle. She handed the bundle to Faramir and led him to a small room. The grey bundle was a pair of trousers, which Faramir came back wearing, the hems far past his ankles and his ripped pants in his arms.

"A little long for you, eh?" Wyniel asked, and laughed. "Not to worry, this won't take but a minute." and she took a spindle of thread and sat right down on the hard wooden floor and set to work sewing up Faramir's pants.

"What brings you to these parts? I mean, I haven't seen you about at all." Wyniel stated, and glanced briefly upwards.

"We haven't been here lately, it's true, but we live nearby." Boromir choked out.

"Okay, keep your secrets," she laughed, and then started to sing. 'Where the green grass grows is where I wish to be, Either a rolling meadow for shore by the sea. To play and sing under the bright sun, never knowing what our happiness brings, but knowing we'll have fun!' she stopped. "I made that one up, couldn't you tell?" and she laughed.

"You have a beautiful laugh." Boromir couldn't believe he said it. Wyniel blushed.

"Thank you, Boromir." and she continued with her work. There was a few minutes of awkward silence, so Wyniel began to hum gently to herself.

She stopped, noticing that the brothers were staring at her. She giggled for a few seconds, then talked to Faramir about his favorite foods.

Soon Faramir's pants were stitched, and looked as though no patch was there.

"Father will not notice that they have been tampered!" cried Faramir joyously, and thanked Wyniel graciously. He strolled out of the store, singing under his breath. Boromir stayed behind for a few minutes.

"Wyniel," he called to her.

"Yes, Boromir?"

"N-never mind." Boromir hung his head and stepped onto the noisy street.


	3. A Torn Tunic

_I don't own LotR_

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For the next year Boromir tried to put Wyniel out of his mind, but to no avail. When his exercise and history lessons were interrupted with the memory of her laughter, Boromir would go crazy trying to resist the urge to travel once again to the second level. He would constantly draft excuses for him to leave his father's hall, until finally he struck out in the early morning before breakfast and without his father's consent for the Hasunder's house.

The road was uncluttered and it took very little time for Boromir to criss-cross his way down the hill of the great city. Just as the sun rose he stood panting before the door, under the wooden sign that showed a needle and thread. As soon as he knocked, Boromir realized he had nothing that needed mending, so he bent to tear the hem of his tunic.

"Oh, hello." Wyniel had just rounded the corner carrying a heavily loaded bucket of water that sloshed gently with her steps.

Straightening himself and blushing, Boromir gazed at the young woman who had seemed to blossom in the past year. Her brown hair blew lightly in the wind and her velvet eyes glistened in the gleam of the early morning.

"I- I seem to have…" Boromir began.

"Torn your tunic, well, come on in and I'll have a look." she flashed him a warm smile and sidled past on her way to the door.

"Oh, where are my manners? Let me carry that." Boromir took the bucket from Wyniel's hand.

"So polite, I appreciate it." Wyniel responded, throwing open the thin curtains to the shop. Settling herself on a low stool she directed Boromir to approach. He stood awkwardly while Wyniel handled the wool and measured the damage done.

"I remember you." she stated simply with a needle between her teeth. "You were here last fall with your little brother. Don't worry, I don't expect you to say anything clever or wise, I understand if some people are shy." she continued, looking into his eyes and winking. "This can be easily fixed." She meant the tear, and at once set to working at it.


	4. Boromir's Butterflies

_I don't own LotR_

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Boromir knew not what to say, and as he ran through the options in his head he became increasingly aware of the time that was slipping by, so in desperation he blurted "Do you like water?" 

Wyniel seemed to see nothing of the unusual in this question, but merely smiled and answered "Yes, I find it very enjoyable. My mother even more so. In fact, her name is Wynduin, much like Anduin. It fits her very much. We are from Osgiliath, you see, our family. But after the last evacuation we were settled here. It's come a long way, I'm told. But without my father, who died in battle, and my brother likewise, it's been hard to improve, much less buy bread and milk."

Boromir felt ashamed that he was in such a better state of living, but was intrigued.

"Have you been inside Osgiliath?" he asked.

"Once, and it was beautiful, despite it being completely devastated. There was a particular spot I remember, not actually in the city but next to it on the riverbank. The reeds grew tall around it and I played there with my brother. Vorondil was his name, and how my mother came up with it I do not know." she smiled vaguely, still working at the stitch. "But I'm talking nonstop, I tend to do that sometimes, so if I'm boring you just let me know, I'll stop."

"No, no, your talk is actually a great relief. At my house I have very little interesting people to listen to, just my tutors and my little brother."

"Where do you live?" Wyniel asked.

"Oh, a few levels up. I love to venture out, though."

"I know what you mean. Being in one place for long drives me to madness." Wyniel replied as she finished her work. "There!"

"Thank you very much." Boromir dug through his pockets for payment. Wyniel turned her head in modesty and accepted the five gold coins he laid on the counter. "I will come back with any other items. Your work is exceptional."

Wyniel smiled and nodded in thanks.

As Boromir walked out the door he exhaled loudly and took his time walking back up to the Steward's Hall, savoring the memory of her laugh and the feeling of butterflies in his stomach.


	5. A Torn Cloak

_I don't own LotR_

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For the next few months Boromir's routine was the same; train for three weeks, sneak out on the first day of the fourth. If Wyniel caught on she never showed, and Boromir soon became discouraged by her indifferent behavior. But a few weeks into the new year, Boromir had a legitimate excuse - he had actually torn his cloak. When he presented Wyniel with it, however, he was greeted with silence. 

Mouth agape, Wyniel stuttered, almost in a whisper "This is yours? W-Where did you…How…Oh, stars. This is…beautiful, utterly superb, it must be the work of a master." Her expression was of complete awe.

"It's been in my family, I suppose. I tore it on a door hinge, actually. Can you fix it?" Boromir asked, slightly taken aback by the reception of his cloak.

"I-I dare not, this is far beyond my skill to mend, I-…hang on." Wyniel bounced up from her stool and took the stairs two at a time. Boromir, in her absence, looked about the small room. He noticed the immaculately clean floor, devoid of any loose thread, and the wearing curtains, hanging upon dark but apparently dusted rods. The smoky glass itself was sparkling in the sunshine and illuminated the almost-empty room with pink light. Two pairs of feet descended the stairs towards the end of Boromir's inspection, and upon turning he saw Wynduin, the widow, in a dark brown mantle. She seemed utterly miserable with sagging skin and a pale complexion, but smiled at the back of Wyniel as she skipped down the stairs.

"Hello, young man." Wynduin spoke, her voice full of experience. Upon inspecting his cloak her face brightened, then darkened. Wyniel smiled first at her mother, then at Boromir.

"Well?" the daughter asked. "Can you do it, mother?"

Wynduin took time to assent, then cracked her knuckles and sent both children out the door. She needed to concentrate for this job.


	6. Plans Exposed

_I don't own LotR_

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"Don't worry, Boromir, she's fantastic! She once put buttons on the steward's shirt!" Wyniel said as the two threw pebbles over the neighbor's house. Sitting down on the sun-drenched step, Wyniel glanced up at Boromir, just then noticing how tall and fair he had become. A tickling entered her stomach, not altogether unwelcome, and she spoke-

"Why do you come only here for you mending? Living on a level much higher, you should surely seek out a closer one, especially for the early hours you visit here."

Boromir froze, stared away from Wyniel, and cocked his ear to hear more.

"I saw you tear you tunic that time, just before you saw me. I didn't want to say anything then, since I was curious to see where you were going with it, but when you never talked, hardly even _looked_ at me, like you're doing now…I don't know what to think."

Boromir looked at her, crouched and exposed with her doe eyes questioning him. It took him a few seconds to answer.

"You're all I think about, all day, all night, you're even in my dreams. I know it's crazy, what I did, what I'm doing, but I can't help it. I tried to stay away, I know I, we, are too young for this kind of…" he didn't finish, feeling his face redden as Wyniel stood and held his arms in her hands. She looked into his grey eyes with tears in her own.

"Isn't childhood fun?" she smiled sweetly and kissed his cheek, just as Wynduin opened the shop door and stuck her head out.

"Alright, come in, please, it is finished."

So having his cloak mended and his plans exposed, Boromir made clear his feelings on the steps of Hasunder's Linens.

"I want to see you again. If you make me wait I will, but please don't." he smiled, grasping Wyniel's waist.

"Come whenever you want, I'll be waiting."

And with that they parted, but only for a time.


	7. The Next Meeting

_I don't own LotR_

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The next day they met was in the middle of summer, and Boromir was awake well before dawn, preparing for his day. He spoke none of it to Faramir, but the boy would be busy with schoolwork for a better portion of the day anyway. As for Boromir's schoolwork, he had already completed it, and received permission from his father to journey into the city again. It was near 9 in the morning when he set out from the hall, and arrived early at the Hasunder's doorstep. To his surprise there sat Wynduin, who looked very cold and appeared to be in failing health. 

"Hello, young fellow." The woman said in her old yet clear voice. "Are you looking for Wyniel? She is upstairs, I will fetch her, if you wish." and the lady stood, leading Boromir inside. After a few minutes a confounded Wynduin descended and proclaimed "For the life of me I could have sworn she was up there." With perfect timing, however, Wyniel burst through the front door, red of face and panting.

"Ahh!" she cried in hysterical joy. "Okay, okay, mercy, Winmund, mercy!" Laughing, she looked up to see her unexpected visitor, standing awkwardly in shy civility

"Boromir!" the flushed Wyniel exclaimed, wrapped her arms around his neck in greeting. "What a wonderful surprise!"

Behind Wyniel entered Winmund, a childhood friend and neighbor. His face was fair and soft while his body was that of a man's, with broad shoulders and hard hands. He was a gifted archer and dreamed of joining the Rangers. He already wore a green cape about his shoulders, which he flung back as he bowed to Boromir.

"My name is Winmund, sir."

"Boromir," he replied, and bowed in the same way.

"Well, Winmund, we are still planning on tomorrow, are we not?" Wyniel asked, still smiling and standing between the two young men.

"I shall be ready at dawn." he replied, and exited promptly.

"Forgive me, Boromir, I did not know that you were coming today. Those plans are for archery lessons, you needn't be worried. Winmund is only a childhood friend, and my closest confidante. My romantic thoughts are saved for you." what that she winked and grasped Boromir's upper arm, gently pulling him to the step. "Shall we go then?" she asked, and Boromir nodded.

"Good-bye, mother!" Wyniel called after she had exited the shop.


	8. Outside Osgiliath

_I don't own LotR_

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Together Boromir and Wyniel strolled down the street. Wyniel was almost skipping, and a smug smile was stretched across her face. She wore a green dress with a strip of white around the waist, and a white lace collar that adorned her neck. "Where shall we visit?" she asked, turning to Boromir.  
"Well, I haven't actually seen most of the city. From the streets, I mean."  
"So you wish for a tour? That seems dreadfully boring to me, since I've seen it all, mostly." Wyniel replied.

"Where do you suggest then?" Boromir asked. Wyneil pondered over the question for some time, then ran partway down the road.  
"Come on! I know where we can go! I will show you around on the way!" and Boromir followed her. The end of the tour, she announced, was the bank of the Anduin, outside the ruins of Osgiliath.

"This is my favorite place to sit and think." she said, and slipping off her leather boots she placed her feet in the cool running waters. For several minutes they sat and watched the water flow by, until Boromir spoke.  
"What shall we do now?"

Wyniel smiled and replied almost immediately:  
"Let's dance!" the sound of sea gulls filled the air, and the warm breeze wrapped them in a fine mist. They were alone on the bank. Boromir accepted this offer and they stood, dancing slowly to invisible music. Close together they were for a long time, until Wyniel heard a loud rumbling in Boromir's stomach.

"Time for a meal, then?" she asked, and she led Boromir back to the city.


	9. Gifts

_I don't own LotR_

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"There you are! It's been quite a long time! Come! We have a lot of work to do!" Wynduin said to her daughter. Boromir exited the shop with Wyniel at his side.

"Good-bye then." Wyniel sadly said to Boromir. He grasped both her hands in his and pulled her close.  
"Will it be good-bye for long?" he whispered in her ear.

"No, not for long." she whispered back. They smiled, and Boromir kissed her cheek softly. They parted and Boromir headed back towards the Steward's hall, turning back to see Wyniel standing on the door step of her house. She smiled softly and waved.

Many weeks passed until Boromir exited the hall again. Denethor was angry with Boromir's recent "neglect" of his schoolwork, so he kept his son on a tight leash - Mornings for exercise, afternoons for study.  
Boromir's heart ached for Wyniel's company day after day, and eventually it was too much for him. While Denethor retired early one night from a headache, Boromir slipped out of the hall and took off through the very back streets of Minas Tirith towards the Hasunder's backdoor. It wasn't hard to find.

Wyniel was there, chiseling away at a tree stump. When she saw Boromir standing by the stone fence she dropped her work immediately and rushed to him.  
"Boromir! Where have you been? I was expecting you weeks ago!" she cried, grasping his hand in hers.  
"Forgive me, my lady, I was tied up!" Boromir answered. Wyniel appeared flustered.  
"How much longer until we can have time?" Wyniel asked with sad eyes.  
"Until father sees that I do well with my work, but I will find a way to escape before then, if you will wait for me!" Boromir rushed through his words.  
Wyniel nodded. "Never could another capture my heart as quickly as you have, Boromir. But you must get back to your home, before your father discovers your disappearance." they both stood. "But before you go, take this." Wyniel pulled a red piece of silk cloth out of a pocket in her deep blue dress and thrust it into the hand of Boromir. "Keep it with you always. May it remind you of me." Boromir nodded and placed it gently into his own pocket.  
"And for you," Boromir said as he untied his dark cloak, "wrap yourself in this, and feel my warmth whenever you need it," and he pulled the cloak around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. She pulled him close and they stood there for several minutes, then he left the way he came.


	10. The Steward Calls a Meeting

_I don't own LotR_

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The weeks passed slowly for Wyniel, and winter came suddenly and violently. She was glad that Boromir had given her his cloak. The long trips to the stream in the freshly fallen snow would otherwise have frozen her to her bones, but the cloak kept her warm, and also kept her memory of Boromir alive. Wynduin had spoken with her a few times about marriage, and had listed some slightly professional men in the city whom she could marry right away. Wyniel was petrified at the thought of marrying so young (16), and longed to be a free spirit for a while longer. Besides, her heart belonged with Boromir, although they had spent so little time together so far. That would soon change. She would surely see him at the city meeting today. 

The Steward had called a meeting for the entire city, and Wyniel made a note to visit once her chores were done. She could see the people already making their way to the courtyard on the first level, just inside the city gate. Running, she set the bucket of ice-cold water inside the doorway and rushed out with the rest of the crowd, eagerly anticipating the Steward's news. There was already a large crowd, but Wyniel managed to push through many people. She got past the steps of the Old Guesthouse an could see the Steward clearing his throat before he spoke. Still, a few people were in front of her, but she stayed there, with her face upwards, listening to the Steward's speech.


	11. The Steward Calls a Meeting 2

_I don't own LotR_

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Boromir got ready as quick as he could that morning. It had been months since he had spoken to Wyniel last, and he was sure he would see her again today. His father was set to deliver a speech on the state of affairs in the city, and to notify the men to prepare for possible onslaughts concerning orcs of the nearby lands. Gripping the red silk in his large hand (like he had for some time now) he exited the great hall and made his way along with the party of nobles following the Steward.

Already many people had gathered.  
The pillars that supported the terrace above were large, and Boromir stood behind one and watched as people of Minas Tirith gathered in the central area of their city. It was a few minutes until he saw Wyniel, and his heart skipped a beat. Never before had he felt like this, and he loved it.  
When his father began to talk, he saw that Wyniel was now standing near the front of the crowd. But at that moment he heard his father call his warriors to the porch, so they could receive applause for their defense of the city.. . Boromir knew his father would soon call him, his son, next to him. Denethor had earlier that week permitted Boromir to join a troop of soldiers in their training, and defend the city when need be.

"Thank you all, citizens of Minas Tirith, for joining me on this day. I have something to announce to all gathered here." Denethor motioned for Boromir to join him, "my eldest son, Boromir, has become one of the great soldiers who defend our great city." the audience applauded, but Boromir didn't notice. His gaze was upon the third row, where Wyniel stood wearing a shocked expression.


	12. The Steward Calls a Meeting 3

_I don't own LotR_

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When Denethor called his son, Boromir, out onto the veranda next to him, Wyniel was only half listening. She was at the moment scanning the crowd for the man who joined his father in front of the crowd. When she looked up, utter shock filled her, and she almost fainted. Turning to the man who stood next to her, she asked:  
"Why business is that young man Boromir's with the Steward?"  
"He is the Steward's son, and now a soldier!" the man exclaimed and shouted "Hooray for Gondor! Hail the Steward and his kin!" 

Wyniel felt despair fill her heart; how could a future steward take her company? 'He never told me, surely that was something of importance. What else is he keeping from me? How long will his interest in me last? He'll have beautiful princesses coming from left and right, he won't have time for a seamstress's daughter.' She threw the cloak off her shoulders, letting it fall to the dirt, and pushed through the crowd behind her. All she wanted was to exit his sight, such was the extent of her embarrassment.


	13. By the River

_I don't own LotR_

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"Hello, Boromir! I'm afraid Wyniel isn't here, she went to hear the Steward's speech!" the woman said happily. She had a pile of cloth in her hands and was stitching up a small hole.  
"Thank you, Ma'am!" Boromir panted and raced out the door. He stood on the doorstep for a few seconds, pondering over where to go. It took a few seconds for him to remember Wyniel's words from months before:  
"This is my favorite place to sit and think." 

So Boromir ran through the ankle-deep snow towards the Anduin, near Osgiliath. He barely saw the soft footprints in the powder, but saw Lorna's pink dress some way off. She was cloak-less and shivering on the bank. Her brown hair stuck to the sides of her face, her cheeks and nose were red with the cold, and she was crying. When she heard him approach she stood up suddenly and tried to rush past him. He grabbed her upper arms and held her in place. She stared violently and with hatred into his eyes while tears ran down her cheeks.  
"You lied to me!" she shrieked and wrestled in his arms. He only pulled her tighter.  
"Lie? I would never do such a thing!"  
"Why didn't you say you were the Steward's son?" Wyniel demanded.  
"You never asked!" Boromir insisted, and he wrapped the cloak about her shoulders. Her shivering ceased a little.  
"Do you really care about me then? I'm not just some joke, an experiment?" Wyniel pouted.  
"If there's anything I've cared for more it's my kin." Boromir replied, and he brushed locks of damp hair out of her face. He let her arms loose and she wiped her cheeks with the sleeves of her dress. "Now we'd better get you home before you freeze." and he picked her up in his strong arms and carried her through the snow. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her face close to his neck to block out the cold wind.


	14. Surprise

_I don't own LotR_

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"Will you stay with me a while?" she asked. Boromir ended up staying with Wyniel, but not as long as both would have liked. Faramir came running up to the doorstep, shouting Boromir's name.

"Boromir! Father sent me to look for you! He is quite angry, come quick!" and Faramir ran back to the Steward's hall without waiting for Boromir to follow.  
"Good-bye, lady Wyniel." Boromir said as he stood up from his seat from in front of the fireplace. He wrapped the blanket that he and Wyniel had been sharing tight around her small body and kissed the top of her head.  
"Come as soon as your schedule can allow!" Wyniel called as Boromir descended the creaking stairs.  
"It had already crossed my mind!" he answered, and left for his home.

After a few minutes Wyniel went down the stairs to where her mother sat at their small kitchen table.

"Boromir fancies you quite a bit, does he not?" Wynduin asked as soon as her daughter had taken a seat. Wyniel could only smile. "It is almost a pity you barely see each other."  
Wyniel nodded. "Mother, have you ever felt like you knew someone so completely, but hardly known them at all? But at the same time been so mesmerized by their presence and…" she stopped and stared at her hands.  
"Wyniel, I love you, you're my daughter and all I have. But I'm concerned. The work I do is getting tough, and if you continue to roam about as you do and let your chores and work in the shop linger, then we have no other choice then marry you off to a wealthy man. There are a few I have contacted in Rohan, fine men they are, and" she was cut off.

"How dare you! Mother!" she jumped up from her seat. "You know I am too young to be wed! And even if I was to marry, it would not be to some stranger of the horse-men! My heart lies with another, and you know it! He also lies right here in Minas Tirith, and is quite rich himself!"  
"I know Boromir is a good man, but he is now a warrior! How can you be sure that he will live long with you in this city that has of lately been threatened?"  
"How is anywhere safe, and one person more than another?" Wyniel exclaimed. "Have you no care for me? Because surely if you did you would put this fixed marriage stuff to an end! I would only journey to Rohan to escape from you!" Wyniel's eyes filled with tears, and she saw that her mother was already crying. "I'm sorry mother," she hugged Wynduin.  
"If you would only visit Rohan for a few months and see what it is like, maybe it will sway your mind?" Wynduin questioned, trying to change her daughter's view. Wyniel was silent.  
"Nothing would sway my mind unless it was Boromir's wish, or if he was to be gone." Wyniel replied, and went upstairs to her bedroom.


	15. A Letter

_Thank you very much, Jedi X-man Serena Kenobi, fo your reviews. They are wholly appreciated :)_

_I don't own LotR_

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"Dearest Boromir,  
Recent events of the Hasunder household need your immediate attention. Please come quickly!  
With much love,  
Wyniel Hasunder"

Wyniel wrote on a scrap piece of paper, using the wooden floor as a desk. She folded up the parchment and placed it inside a pocket in her dress. She descended tramped downstairs and grabbed the water bucket.  
"I'll be at the river if I am needed." Wyniel called as she stepped outside into the bitter cold. She had Boromir's cloak wrapped about her, and the letter in her pocket.  
"But you got some water already today!" Wynduin called from behind her work bench.  
"Then I'll be getting some more!" Wyniel answered, but walked briskly in the opposite direction of the well.

She was headed for the Steward's hall.

On the way, however, she came across Winmund, whose father worked as a guard of the great tower in Minas Tirith.  
"Hello, Wyniel! He greeted her warmly. "Come! We shall talk, unless you have pressing matters you just need to attend to!" Winmund said sarcastically, but Wyniel didn't mind. She followed him into his house and they sat in front of the fire and talked. She told him about her plight, and how her mother had arranged a marriage.

"She couldn't have set the marriage, just the meeting of you and your possible suitor!" Winmund cried. "That's outrageous in any means, though." He added.

"I know, and also, there is someone in Minas Tirith who I care a lot for, although I cannot reach him." Then Wyniel reminded Winmund of Boromir, and her deep love for him. "There is a meeting I can set up for you, if you wish." Winmund offered. "And that letter you speak of can reach him, by my doing," he added, "but it may take some time, a couple of days, or even a week, if your mother can wait that long to ship you off to Rohan so soon!" he joked.  
"I can hold her off for a while, just get the letter to Boromir, please! I will be back here in one week, at noon, if he can arrive then. But I will wait all day if I must! Now deliver this letter, and be swift! For these indeed are pressing matters!"  
"Yes, indeed, your heart is on the line!" said Winmund and unfolded the letter, adding in his own handwriting: noon, Jan 15. Then he pocketed the letter and rose from his seat.  
"I shall be off then, to help a friend in need!" Winmund said proudly, and both exited.  
"Thank you, I shall visit you more, if I have the time." And they hugged. Wyniel then went home, with the water bucket empty.


	16. A Meeting

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

On January 15th Wyniel didn't have to wait long for Boromir to arrive, being guided the way by Winmund. The sun was high and bright in the sky when Boromir took Wyniel atop the white tower, the Steward's Tower. It was strangely warm for winter. 

"Have you something to tell me?" Boromir asked. His arm was wrapped around Wyniel's waist, and both gazed at the plains that stretched far below the city.  
"Indeed I do." Wyniel turned to face him. She hesitated for a few minutes, then spoke: "Mother intends to send me to Rohan in search of a husband! Don't let me go! Don't let her send me! Please, Boromir, don't let me go!" she buried her face in his strong chest and wept. He ran his fingers through her hair, deep in thought. It was some time before he spoke. "Wyniel, believe me when I say this." he paused. Wyniel looked up into his eyes and backed a few feet away from him.  
"You sound like you're about to deliver bad news." She looked crushed.  
"It may be unfortunate, but I have to say it. I think you should go to Rohan, and meet with your possible suitor." Wyniel's lips quivered and her tears began to stream once more. "But if you feel as I do, you'd know that he is no way a possible suitor, for our love will not falter, even over many miles." Boromir tried to comfort her, but she backed away from him even more.

Boromir gave it one more try. Wyniel only shook her head.

"There is no love! If there was you wouldn't let me go!" Wyniel cried, and she turned to look at the city below the tower. "No love." She repeated to herself. Her arms were wrapped tightly around her own waist, but Boromir slid his own from behind her, and held her shaking hands. "I do love you." He whispered lightly in her ear. She stopped shaking slightly and turned to face Boromir.  
"Then why encourage me to go, instead of begging me to stay?" she questioned.  
"Because once your mother realizes that you absolutely do not love the man in Rohan, she'll let you come back, and then we can be together!" Boromir stated, smiling warmly. Wyniel smiled too, realizing that Boromir had unwillingly given her a plan.  
"Or perhaps he won't love me!" Wyniel exclaimed, now smiling happily. "I could be as rude and obnoxious as I can, and he will send me back!"  
Boromir laughed. "That won't be hard!" he joked. Wyniel playfully punched his shoulder and hugged him tight.

The sun began to sink, and they spent two more hours just talking. Boromir prattled about weapons, and the security of the city, and how he was sure he would soon make Captain. Wyniel only smiled and nodded, savoring every minute with Boromir until she left for Rohan.


	17. Goodbye Promises

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Before long night had set in, and the two where laying on their stomachs with their chin resting in their palms, watching the sun set.

"You won't forget me while I'm away, will you?" Wyniel asked. Boromir looked into her deep brown eyes and answered:  
"Not if you were away many ages would I ever forget you."  
Wyniel smiled and blushed slightly. She turned to see him again. They looked at each other, and all was silent. Then Wyniel leaned close in towards Boromir's face and kissed his lips. Boromir returned the kiss, and when they parted a shy smile was across both their faces.  
"Just in case you do forget me." Wyniel said, and she stood.  
"Don't leave so soon!" Boromir called and jumped to his own feet. He grasped Wyniel's hands in his and kissed her, and there they stood for a long time. Then Boromir held her hand and walked Wyniel back to her house. But once they arrived at the doorstep Wyniel burst into tears again.  
"Will you say farewell to me just before I leave?" she asked between sobs. Boromir pulled her close.  
"I had already planned on it." He answered, and they kissed again, and both parted ways.


	18. Broken Promise

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

But as it turned out Boromir never saw Wyniel off.

February and then March rolled by, while Wyniel's trip was always growing larger and foreboding on her mind. When April 5th came, she awoke feeling empty. She ate breakfast in silence, and saddled up her horse without saying a word to her mother. In fact, hardly and words were exchanged in the Hasunder's household since early January.

Tobrecan was to be Wyniel's guide. They departed around 9 in the morning, and a thin mist lay about the plain.

"Is something the matter, lady?" Tobrecan, asked kindly. Wyniel shrugged as she looked over her shoulder at the city. "Leaving home is hard sometimes for me as well." Tobrecan said and laughed. "There is a song I sing to remind me of home though." And he broke off into song. His golden hair flowed as he sung about the many stables and pastures of his home, Edoras. Wyniel would have joined, but Boromir's absence irked her and sunk what would have been happiness in her heart.


	19. Cry on the Plain 1

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Boromir woke later than he had intended on April 5th. The sun was already high above the city, and inquiring the house cook he learned it was already 9 or so. Fearing Wyniel had already departed, Boromir dressed in a dirty tunic and raced out of the Steward's hall without even the lightest cloak. He dashed madly to the Hasunder's, only to find the house empty.  
"Where would they be?" Boromir asked himself as he stepped outside. Just then Winmund ran up to him.  
"Come! Wyniel wishes to see you!" Winmund gasped and grabbed Boromir's wrist. 

Together they ran to the last gate of the city, only to meet Wynduin while she entered.

"Has she left?" Boromir asked.  
"I'm afraid so. But she'll be happier where she's going." Wynduin replied and brushed past Boromir.  
The two men just stood at the gate looking at each other for a few minutes, unable to speak. Finally Winmund broke the silence.

"So she's gone then."  
"Yeah." Was all Boromir could say. He stood staring at the dirt by Winmund's shoes until he ran out of the gate. In the far distance he could see among the golden plains two small figures on horseback, galloping into the distance. Tears came to his eyes and he fell to his knees.  
"Wyniel!" he screamed into the wind. He was surprised when he thought he heard "Farewell, Boromir! Don't forget me!" and then she was gone.


	20. Cry on the Plain 2

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel brought her horse to a gallop after a few minutes of trotting. Tobrecan followed suit, still singing. The mist had suddenly lifted and Wyniel could see over her shoulder the city gates. She sighed heavily and looked ahead. The forests of nearby Ithilien loomed dark and foreboding, and Wyniel feared them, for she had heard many stories of the dangers that now taken it as their home since the coming of shadow to the East. Tobrecan told her they would not go that way, though. Instead they would travel the great west road to Rohan. It would take a couple weeks, but they had brought provisions and would stop at villages on the way.

Wyniel looked back once more before the only city she had ever known disappeared into the grass, and heard a cry on the wind:  
"Wyniel!" was the shout. Fresh tears came to her eyes and she slowed her horse.

"Farewell, Boromir! Don't forget me!" she cried. Tobrecan turned his horse and trotted back to her.  
"Are we set to go? Or is there some business you must take care of?" he asked.  
"We can go." Wyniel replied, and then they left all view of the city.


	21. In Rohan and the Journey Back

_I again want to thank you for reviewing...I don't know why it said you were spamming, but then again, i'm not the best at computers:)_

_So this part has some action! YAY! Some grisly images here...enjoy!_

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Since Wyniel could of course not married Raeden, her prospective suitor, she told him right away. She was overjoyed with his response, which was one of relief. He told her that he was in much the same situation as she, he being in love with the girl who made beds and washed linens in the Hall. So after some careful planning and one large staged fight, King Theoden himself saw that there would be no love in their marriage and excused Wyniel from all obligations concerning matrimony. 

The king allowed Wyniel to stay and be his special guest, since he had had little news of Gondor for quite some time.

Ardith, the woman who Raeden loved, became good friends with Wyniel, and they spent their summer days riding on the plains and practicing archery. Wyniel wasn't very good, and hardly improved over her stay, but enjoyed her time, nonetheless. He thoughts were always escaping back to Boromir, however, and her heart ached to return home. So after long good-byes Wyniel set off for Gondor, laden with many gifts of goodwill from both the king and Raeden, but most of all Ardith, who presented Wyniel with several yards of cloth in the deepest greens and purest whites, which Wyniel treasured greatly.

Autumn had brought the slightest chill to the plains, and Wyniel kept Boromir's cloak wrapped around her constantly. The trip home seemed to take less time, and Tobrecan proved to be a wonderful guide.  
One morning, though, dark smoke appeared at a distance. Wyniel galloped to the scene, and what she saw was beyond anything she had ever seen before.  
When Tobrecan arrived at her side he saw her staring open-mouthed at a flaming pile of black bodies. Spears stuck up out of the mess, and decapitated heads were strung around the ground nearby. Wyniel gagged and almost fell from her horse.  
"Looks like orc bodies to me. And burned Rohirrim-style." Tobrecan said as his face grew pale.  
"Riders of the Mark way out here? Wouldn't Gondor answer to this close a raid?" Wyniel asked as she covered her mouth with her sleeve.  
"Perhaps they were on a far boundary search. Whatever was the trouble we should be going, don't you think?" Tobrecan suggested and mounted his horse.


	22. The Sound of Rain?

_Alright, what takes place here is the base behind future events. I will say no more :)_

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The next morning, Tobrecan predicted that they would reach the city by nightfall. That was not so, however. A sudden downpour slowed their approach, and they were forced to take shelter under a canopy of oak trees.

The night was wet and miserable. After she finally had dropped off to sleep, Wyniel heard a rustling in the trees and wondered what kind of creature lurked so close to their camp. Seeing that Tobrecan was gone she jumped up quickly, grasped the bow and quiver of arrows Raedan presented to her before she left, and stepped as quietly as she could into the trees.

Far off she thought she heard cries, and made her way to them, stringing an arrow as she went. She had never been more scared in all her life, and doubted she would even be able to hit whatever it was she was after. It was all dark, the moon was blocked by storm clouds, but it was no longer raining. Just as the cries became louder a figure jumped Wyniel from behind. It was Tobrecan.  
"Get back to the tent! All is well, do not worry. You must sleep." And he led her to the tent they had set up.  
She hardly slept any more that night, but in the morning she was full of questions.


	23. The Sound of

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The sun was shining bright, and a thin mist hovered over the plains. Lorna hadn't stopped pestering Tobrecan with her questions all morning, and soon became angered that he wouldn't answer her.  
"What were those cries I heard coming from deep in the wood last night? I know something was there, now tell me!" she demanded as the horses were being mounted. She saw a purple flower sticking out of the grass and stuck it in her hair.  
"It was nothing, now ride!" Tobrecan said with faux impatience. Wyniel expected them to sing, but Tobrecan looked very weary. He was cut above his eye, but insisted that it was from a branch. 

When they stopped for lunch, Tobrecan finally told Wyniel all he knew, which made her terrified, and wishing she hadn't asked.  
"The camp we set up last night was very close to a few stray orcs passing nearby." He whispered. "They were small, but put up quite a fight. I killed them all, though, unless a few were unaccounted for and slipped into the forest. Not to fear, though! Your journey the few more miles will be safe!" he announced, and then they set off to the white city in the distance.


	24. Return to Minas Tirith

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

"Who approaches?" came a voice from the city wall. A silver helm appeared, and Tobrecan answered:  
"I am Tobrecan, friend of Gondorians, and escort of Lady Wyniel of the Hasunder home. Open the gate and let weary travelers through!"  
The gate the opened and Wyniel returned to her city. Just as she entered she was greeted by her mother (in tears) and Winmund, holding a bouquet of wildflowers.  
"Welcome back!" Winmund shouted and, dropping the flowers, he helped Wyniel dismount. Sobbing with joy, Wyniel wrapped her arms around Winmund and kissed both of his cheeks. Her mother then approached. Wyniel noticed that she limped a little, and had grown many more gray hairs in the past months. 

"Wyniel, my daughter. You found the man of Rohan to be unfit? I suppose I am losing my touch." Wynduin said quietly.  
"If it was not for our own loves, Raedan and I would quite surely be married now." Wyniel reassured her, and they hugged.  
"Come then, let's go home." Wynduin said. Wyniel saw a nearby shrub rustle, but there was no wind that day.  
"Just a moment." She answered and walked cautiously to the shrub. When she was within three feet or so a tall man dressed all in black and silver stood up from behind the shrub.  
"Lothwyniel Hasunder?" he queried. Wyniel nodded, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Could you spare a minute? I am in need of a few words."  
"Well, I should be getting back home, see, I just arrived from a long journey and I am quite weary."  
"Yes, yes, well, perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Beregond, and I was sent by Master Boromir, son of the Steward Denethor." Lorna stood silent for a few minutes, then called back to her mother that she would be late returning home. Then she followed Beregond behind the guard's tower. What she saw there she would never forget. Boromir paced back and forth under the shadow of the tower, dressed in silver and black, adorned in silver weapons. He appeared to be taller and older, a man, different from when Wyniel had last seen him.

"Wyniel." Boromir began. Beregond disappeared, and the two were left alone.  
"Boromir!" Wyniel exclaimed, and ran to him. Boromir grabbed her waist and lifted her to his eye level. Grabbing the sides of Boromir's face, Wyniel spoke:

"Long have I yearned for your company! It seemed a lifetime I was away."  
"My lady, it was a lifetime, and without you it seemed longer than eternity!" Boromir responded and they kissed. He then set her down and they stood together, embraced, until Boromir spoke again.  
"You have not married then?" he seemed shy and timid as he asked the question.  
Wyniel smiled "No, both of our hearts were already stolen."  
"Good, so you will stay in the city now?" Boromir asked.  
"It is my only wish." Wyniel replied. "And mine as well. There was no sun as long as you were away."  
Wyniel smiled and kissed Boromir, and they both walked lazily around the small courtyard behind the guard's tower until nearly nightfall.


	25. P for Proposal

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

"Mother expects me back." Wyniel whispered, not wanting to leave.  
"Will we meet again soon?" Boromir queried as he held her waist between his strong hands. Wyniel's own hands were rested on Boromir's shoulders, and she looked into his eyes.  
"A guard of the city has no time for petty peasant women, now does he?" Wyniel teased.  
"This guard does."  
Wyniel rested her head on his chest. 

"Wyniel." Boromir began.  
"Yes?"  
"I wish for you to be my wife."  
Wyniel was surprised.  
"Will you marry me?" Boromir asked again. He seemed hurt that Wyniel didn't reply. "Marry me, if you will. I love you, and you love me, so let's marry!"  
"Well," Wyniel stammered.  
"You do love me, don't you?" Boromir sounded even more hurt.  
"Yes! I love you with all my heart, and if it is what you wish, I will marry you, as long as I have your love and your heart forever!" Wyniel exclaimed in one breath. Boromir seemed pleased, because he lifted Wyniel above his head and laughed and kissed her for several minutes. Then they made wedding plans as Boromir walked her home.


	26. Between Brothers

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The next days were a blur, and Boromir seemed to skip about his work. Faramir, now early in his teens, noticed this unusual behavior and questioned his brother one night.

"Boromir, what pleases you so?"

"Faramir, dear brother, I am in love." Boromir answered. The younger made a face.

"Oh, who with?" he asked, slightly uncaring but jealous nonetheless.

"Her name is Wyniel. You _must_ remember her." Boromir said as he gazed at the stars

outside his window.

"Yeah, she's lovely, I guess." Faramir feigned indifference. He looked up at his brother, so proud, so noble, and longed to be like him. "Will she be coming here at all?"

Boromir thought, then answered; "I hope so. I haven't told anyone yet, but…" he smiled down at his brother, seated upon a cushion, "I'm going to marry her."

"And you haven't told father!" Faramir exclaimed.

"I mean to." Boromir stated. "But when the time is right. Please, Faramir, do not let slip this information until father is in a good mood, else I fear that you shall never have a sister-in-law."

Faramir acquiesced, unstrung his bow and climbed into bed. "Goodnight." he said and thought no more of it.


	27. Up the Street

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel was walking on sunshine for days. She told her mother immediately about her plans for marriage, and Wynduin, already having tried to fix her daughter up, surrendered. They drafted many wedding dress designs that night, and Wyniel slept among silver linens and golden clouds. 

For days she didn't give much thought to Boromir's absence, but after two weeks Wyniel became worried and doubtful.

"Where has he been? He would've come to see me by now." she told Winmund on their way to the well.

"His father is probably keeping a close eye on him. Denethor is very possessive." Winmund informed her. She smiled halfheartedly but remained silent. "Besides, he wouldn't have given you a gift like this," Winmund pointed to the cloak, "if he wasn't coming back for it."

"I suppose you're right." Wyniel said, but her mind was still troubled. After several minutes of consideration, she turned to her friend. "Let's go there now!"

"Where? Ithilien?" Winmund asked. He had recently been jabbering on about becoming a Ranger and training in the dark woods.

"No, the Steward's Hall. To see Boromir. Come on, let's go." Wyniel said, and dropping the bucket inside her door, grabbed Winmund's hand and dragged him up the street.


	28. They Meet

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Faramir, having remembered his brother's news on the morning upon waking, questioned him some more. 

"Come on, bring her up! If you're going to be married, father must know! And besides, she'll be living here in the future, so show her around!" he insisted.

Having nothing planned for the afternoon, and being anxious to see her anyhow, Boromir gave in to his brother's persistence and they set out together down the street.

At the fourth level the two groups met. Wyniel and Winmund had stepped into the sun to see the noble brothers looking vulnerable and timid. At full sprint Wyniel jumped and circled her arms around Boromir's neck, kissing his entire face until she let go. Faramir laughed and stood beside Winmund, whose hand he politely shook.

"Where have you been?" Wyniel demanded. She held onto his neck and they smiled at each other until their company snickered.

"Dreaming of you, of course." Boromir replied. "How do you feel about meeting my father?"

"Now?" Wyniel exclaimed. "I haven't got my best on!"

"You look fine, believe me." Boromir smiled warmly. Wyniel blushed and ran her fingers through her hair.

"Umm, well," she glanced over at Winmund, who gave no advice whatsoever, and at Faramir, who smiled shyly. "What do you think?" she asked the young boy.

Faramir smiled and nodded his head vigorously, his face reddening.

"Very well, then." Wyniel said, smoothing her deep green dress. She exhaled loudly and hooked her arm through Boromir's. "Let's go."


	29. Denethor Martial or Marital?

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The wind blew harder outside the Steward's Hall, and Wyniel could feel her guts sinking farther and farther with each step. Boromir appeared to be just as scared as she felt, so she gripped his arm a little tighter. With this he walked taller and picked his chin up, smiling. 

"This must be better than winning a battle." Boromir thought. "Still, that would be pretty nice."

They mounted the steps in regal fashion, feeling like King and Queen, but that feeling quickly disappeared when they entered the dark Hall. Denethor slouched in his stone chair, almost dozing, but quickly looked up when the four entered.

"Boromir, who do you bring?" he growled.

"Father, this is Lothwyniel Hasunder." Boromir seemed humbled in front of his father. Wyniel stared at the Steward's feet, not daring to gaze into his face.

"What business has she, an unknown girl, in my hall?" Denethor demanded.

"Father," Boromir quietly answered, "she is to be my wife."

"Wife," the Steward barked, "I never heard of this. What trickery have you been planning?"

"None, my lord, it is love."

"Love? Bah!" Denethor laughed mirthlessly. "You are too young to know love."

"Father, I-"

"Boromir! Do not talk back to your father. I will tell you when you are ready to get married, and it certainly is not now!" Denethor was enraged. Boromir's face had grown bright red and his eyes burned with hate. Faramir gently motioned Winmund to the side of the hall, nearly out of sight behind a column of black stone. Wyniel stood before the Steward with her hands clasped in front of her. She watched Boromir, however, who in his rage bent over his father.

"I am a man, a soldier of my own right, and I am in control of my own life. Do not think that if you do not bless this marriage it will not happen. We will be married come spring, and it will only make our living condition easier if you accept that!" Boromir stepped back and stood strait. He put his arm around Wyniel and continued. "What do you say, father?"

Denethor stared at the floor, irate. He bit his fingernails and snarled words barely audible. After a few minutes he looked up, completely oblivious to Wyniel.

"If it is your wish, Boromir," he almost whispered. "Then so be it." and with a half-hearted wave he dismissed the group.

Boromir took Wyniel in his arms and kissed her trembling lips. A great weight had been lifted, and the rest of the afternoon passed quickly and easily.


	30. That Night

_Okay this is as mushy as it gets..._

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Letting his father cool down, Boromir took Wyniel up on her offer of a sleepover. Snuggling next to the fireplace in her tiny bedroom, the couple fit together under a heavy blanket.

"Your father hates me." Wyniel stated. "I don't know how we'll be, I mean, when we're together there."

"Don't worry, he'll be perfectly fine in a few days. He's just never been the same since mother died, it broke his heart."

"That's terrible," Wyniel sympathized. "Just awful."

They sat in silence, staring at the crackling wood in the flames. Then Boromir spoke;

"He is just afraid that I will get hurt like he has."

"I will always be with you, Boromir. Our love can't be separated." Wyniel nestled closer to his chest.

"What love we have!" Boromir exclaimed, and he kissed her forehead.

Unclasping his leather surcoat, Wyniel could feel Boromir's heart pounding. She touched his cheek softly and kissed his lips, pulling the coat off and revealing a thin tunic. This maroon cloth captured Wyniel's attention, especially the detailed golden thread in the shape of an Eagle's wing.

"May I?" Boromir asked as he motioned toward her waistband. Wyniel nodded - she loved his manners. So as Boromir fiddled with the bow at the base of her back, Wyniel unlaced the chest of Boromir's tunic and it slid over his arms and to his waist. Wyniel stood, let her green dress fall, and was left in a thin white under-dress. The rest is clear - a night of passion and heat. The lovers were entangled and blissful until the early morning, when it was time for Wyniel to do her chores.


	31. The Next Morning

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The sun shone through the gaps in Wyniel's one shuttered window. The room glowed pink in the early morning, where the two were laying before the dying embers of the fire.

"Mmm, Boromir?" Wyniel mumbled sleepily. "Wake up." She adjusted under his heavy arm. Boromir only rolled more onto his stomach, but he smiled.

"I don't want to get up, but the day beckons." Wyniel said as she rolled out of Boromir's grasp and stood up. Her dress went back on easily, slightly wrinkled, and her hair was in a knot above her right ear. "Will you be here when I get back? I'll just go to the well."

Boromir mumbled and she took that for a "yes," so running downstairs and grabbing the empty water bucket, Wyniel rushed into the cold morning. Running her fingers quickly through her hair, she smiled and skipped down the road, wondering at her beautiful life.


	32. A Wedding in Spring

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Spring couldn't come quick enough for Boromir and Wyniel. The public had been informed and readying - everywhere Wyniel went she was bombarded with congratulations. Ardith and Raedan, already married, would attend the fantastic wedding. In fact, the white cloth that was a gift from Ardith was used to make Wyniel's wedding dress, sewn mostly by Wynduin. Silver lining adorned the dress and made it shone, and the sleeves and neckline glittered with diamonds. Boromir would wear his finest silver outfit trimmed in black - the colors of his city, and flags were flown with pride on the day that the Steward's son was married. 

"Ardith, does my hair look alright? How is this necklace?" Wyniel asked. She stood surrounded by about a dozen ladies preparing the dress. Wynduin sat back, watching the proceedings with a great smile, wise and proud. Her health had been failing rapidly, but she had still sewn her daughter's wedding dress and managed to improve one of her own to something as elegant as a noble's.

"Everything is fine, gorgeous, Wyniel, you look perfect!" Ardith raved. Her face was beaming. "I just wish you could have been at my wedding." she sighed.

"I can picture it perfectly," Wyniel replied. "Green grass, flying banners, hundreds of beautiful horses and golden maidens behind a procession of strong men in uniform." She smiled.

"Yes, but this shall be _your_ day." Ardith said, touching Wyniel's face gently. "Beautiful."

Wyniel smiled and hugged her friend. "Is everything ready, then?" she asked. The ladies around her nodded, making last minute adjustments and shines. They backed away and let Wyniel step off the pedestal onto the floor. The white fabric glittered in the sunlight, pure next to the dusty walls and floor. Her mother's hand under one arm and Ardith's under the other, Wyniel exited her small house on the second level of Minas Tirith. To one side was a crowd of people from the first level, and on the other was those of the second, waiting to follow the bride up the streets to the Steward's Hall. The ladies who prepared Wyniel followed directly, then the first levels, second levels, and so on, until all were gathered at the foot of the steps. Boromir waited at the top, proud and fair. Wynduin and Ardith let go of Wyniel and stepped back as Boromir descended to claim his bride. Then, ascending the stone steps, the ceremony proceeded, and in the warm wind and sunshine of spring, the two became one with an entire noble city as witness.


	33. New Home

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Brushing the flower petals from her hair with one hand, Wyniel held onto Boromir's neck with her other. He had carried after the feast up two flights of stairs into their new home. The suite had large wooden doors that opened onto a living space the size of Wyniel's entire house. A patio overlooked the southeastern part of the city, partly enclosed with silver curtains that danced in the wind. The bedroom, where Boromir took her, was to the east. The bed had a headboard of the richest design, and four long posts extended upward from each corner. Beautiful, lily-white flowers adorned every surface; their fragrance carried on the wind and made Wyniel sigh. She was in heaven.

Gently, Boromir set her down on the bed.

"This is our new home." he stated, satisfied, and gazing about. His hands were on his belt and his chin was high. Wyniel thought he had never looked better.

"Our home." Wyniel repeated. She kept playing with the idea of actually being someone's wife. She smiled broader, thinking that she was a noble's wife. "Come here, my husband, my love." she said, extending her arms for his arrival. He obeyed, burying his face in her hair. She laughed when his whiskers tickled her neck, and they were in utter bliss.


	34. Honeymoon on the Sea

_If you're wondering why this bit is in here, just wait and see :)_

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

A honeymoon was planned, and the newlyweds set out for Dol Amroth in late spring. There they made close contacts with much of the nobility, and Boromir was reunited with his mother's kin.

"The sea is beautiful, Boromir." Wyniel sighed as they gazed upon the openness. "I should like to spend more time upon it, if we are ever able."

"I will make sure of it. One day it will be safe enough year round to travel, and we shall sail up and down the Anduin fearlessly." Boromir assured her. Wyniel smiled and stared at the horizon.


	35. A Death in the Family

_The tragedy has begun, and much more is in store!_

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Upon returning to Minas Tirith, the couple found Wynduin in a terrible condition. She had been taken to the Houses of Healing, but nothing the nurses could do for her would help. Wyniel spent many nights crying beside her bed, while Wynduin insisted that it was perfectly natural, and about time, too.

"You have a good husband, and he cares for you more than anyone has ever cared for their wife before. You do not need me anymore, Wyniel. You are a beautiful grown woman, and you will do well." Wynduin kissed her daughter's forehead and lay down heavily. "Do not weep for long, my child, there are others yet still alive and yearning for your happiness. Give me a smile before I go." Wynduin pleaded.

Her daughter tried, but fell to crying even harder.

"I'm not yet 20, mother! I'm too young to lose you." Wyniel instantly felt ashamed. Boromir and Faramir seen their mother die long before, when they were hardly in school.

Wynduin said nothing, knowing what her daughter had realized.

"It is not the end, though. In the next life, we will meet again, yes?" Wyniel asked through broken sobs.

"I'll be waiting." Wynduin whispered. Wyniel smiled with wet cheeks, as did her mother, and Wynduin - as her daughter knew her - passed onto another life.


	36. Wynduin's Funeral

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wynduin's funeral was simple, as she would have liked it, but contained a few hints of noble flavor that were necessary. Uniformed guards escorted her body out of the city, walking behind a solemn Wyniel, toward Osgiliath. The long march on the Pellenor went unnoticed, such was Wyniel's grief. She laid her mother to rest among the underground tombs of her family in that ancient ruin, Boromir bedecked in black beside her. She shed a single tear that joined the river below her feet, then turned and led the funeral company back.

At the ledge of a window in her bedroom, Wyniel gazed into the empty city near the river. Boromir paced back and forth patiently - he didn't know how to comfort someone, so he contented himself to silence. Wyniel stayed awake all that night, finally retiring when the sun met the city. Boromir joined her, ever faithful.

"Sleep now, you need your rest." Boromir whispered. He had drawn the curtains to fake night.

"Will you sleep with me today?" Wyniel asked.

"For a while. I must train at noon."

"Very well." Wyniel mumbled. "Wake me up when you leave."


	37. Talk of What

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Their marriage was blissful, and the young couple matured in their own time into a respectable unit; Boromir tall and noble, Wyniel fair and gentle. While Boromir was busy with his military duties, Wyniel spent her time with Faramir, studying history and occasionally joining in his archery practice. They became fast friends, almost joined at the hip, always joking and playing around the hall in Faramir's time off. Their mutual love for lore gave them unending topics for discussion. They were even more intrigued when a wizard, Mithrandir, visited the White City.

"Mithrandir, tell us of the Halflings, please!" Wyniel pleaded. It was a topic that both loved to hear about, and the way Mithrandir talked, nobody could resist. Well, almost nobody.

"Wyniel, all I'm asking is a little more time for me!" Boromir was trying to stay calm.

"Mithrandir is only here for a time, he knows so much!"

"Mithrandir, Mithrandir, that _wizard_." the word seemed a curse to Boromir's tongue. "_I_ am your _husband_!"

It was their first real fight, and Wyniel was overcome with grief. With tears streaming down her face, Wyniel collapsed onto a couch.

"Stop shouting!"

Boromir was red in the face, at first angry, then embarrassed. He was frozen for a minute, then knelt next to his wife, who partially hid her face with her hand.

"I'm sorry." he pulled her hand away and held it in his. "But I hardly see you anymore. With so much responsibility, it's hard to get home, not to mention find you."

She smiled meekly and wiped her nose. Boromir continued.

"There is…talk in the city." he seemed grieved. "They say that our marriage is failing."

This was news to Wyniel. But then again, the only person who lived outside the Steward's Hall that she talked to was Winmund, and he wasn't much for gossip. "What? Why would they say that?"

The strain of such a discussion showed in Boromir's face. "Because, we…we have not produced an heir." he exhaled loudly, relieved that it was finally in the open, but still nervous to hear his wife's reaction. She was silent, in shock, for several seconds, then looked up suddenly. She was at a loss for words. Boromir continued.

"We _have _been married for over seven years." he moved closer and stared deep into her eyes. She sniffled and considered his words.

"Well, it's not like we haven't been trying, but we haven't really been _trying_." she admitted. Wyniel smiled and wrapped her arms around her husband. "I want you around more when we have a child."

"Absolutely."


	38. Names

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The next spring, Wyniel and Boromir were expecting a child. Wyniel's activities had been reduced, so instead of cavorting around the Hall and its many gardens playing war games with Faramir, she strolled by his side. A special couch was brought to Faramir's archery yard, where Wyniel could gaze on, glancing at a book now and then, but mostly reclining in the sunlight and complimenting Faramir on his accuracy.

"What will you name the baby, then?" Faramir asked. He was very much intrigued in the mysteries of pregnancies, and could be seen rubbing Wyniel's ever-rounding stomach between quivers.

"Ecthelion if it's a boy, like your grandfather."

Faramir smiled. He had heard many great stories of his grandfather, and their impact had been just the same on Wyniel.

"And if it's a girl?" he asked.

"I don't know yet. I would name her Finduilas but for your father. He would be terribly upset, I think."

Faramir nodded. There had been little more confrontations between Denethor and his sons, but hostility still existed when Wyniel was in the picture. She had long been used to it, but with her pregnancy, Denethor seemed even more bitter. Nevertheless, Wyniel stayed optimistic, as always, and enjoyed the company of all others rather than Denethor.


	39. Fight at Dinner

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Denethor's haughtiness soon proved too much for Wyniel to ignore however.

Faramir being a young man, he was training day after day with the Rangers. His archery was quite good, as Wyniel had witnessed it improve, and he sought approval from his father one night at dinner.

The four were seated at their own sides of a table in the Hall - Denethor, his sons Boromir and Faramir on either side of him, and Wyniel opposite. In a break between the main course and desert, Faramir had touched upon the topic of his tutor's report.

"He tell me that I'm improving greatly." Faramir bragged, slightly red.

Wyniel smiled. "Indeed you are, Faramir."

Denethor snarled and stared at his plate. "He tells _me_ that you take too long setting up your shot."

Faramir's eyes were downcast as he assessed his father's comment. Wyniel sympathized with her brother-in-law and so spoke to the table:

"But he never misses a shot." she flashed Faramir a warm smile. He leaned over to rub her belly, which had swollen greatly over the summer.

Denethor looked up at Wyniel with hateful eyes. He glanced sharply at his youngest son, who smiled innocently. "In times of need it is much more necessary to kill many enemies rather than one. Faramir, I expect great improvement if you wish to become more like your brother."

Faramir blushed greatly, but Denethor wasn't done.

"Why must you always fail?"

Wyniel's mouth dropped open in pure astonishment. Faramir sat still for seconds, then pushed his chair back greatly, head down, and walked slowly for the double doors at the end of the Hall. Wyniel jumped out of her own chair and stared menacingly at the Steward.

"How dare you!" she growled. "All he does is try to please you! Stop comparing the accomplishments of two different people and start loving your son!" she was on the verge of tears, but her voice was level when she said; "No wonder Finduilas died. She couldn't stand you."

And with that she stalked out, head held high and skirts swishing out the door.

The entire time Boromir had sat silent.


	40. Brother and Sister

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The dimming light gave the stone courtyard an eerie blue hue. It seemed to mirror Faramir's mood as he sulked around the White Tree.

"Faramir," Wyniel called, rushing to be by his side. "Faramir, I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault, he's just terrible." Faramir assured her. His voice was deep with restrained emotion. "I heard what you told him. Thank you, at least someone has the guts to stand up to him." he smiled a little and put his arm around her. Wyniel hugged his neck and sniffled.

"I love you, Faramir." Wyniel hugged him tighter. Faramir smiled and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I love you, too, Wyniel. You're the best sister anyone could ever hope for." he stopped, pondering his next comment. "You know, father wouldn't bother me so much if Boromir actually stood up for me."

Wyniel nodded, clasping his hand and leading him into their home wing of the Hall where they stayed up until near midnight talking.


	41. Confronted

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel went back to her own bedroom near midnight. Boromir was sitting in the windowsill, looking at the city.

"You're back." he rose to greet her.

"How could you just sit there?" she demanded of him. "Always, always you say nothing, letting Faramir take that abuse!"

Boromir was stunned by this sudden reproach. He stared, stammered, and faltered in his footsteps. "Wyniel," he began, but couldn't say anything else.

"Why is it that _I_ am always sticking up for him? Goodness, I can't even imagine what kind of maltreatment he was subject to before I can along!" she stopped for breath and to sit down, resting her ankles from the weight she supported. "How can you lead hundreds into battle but not stand up to your father?" she allowed Boromir to comfort her, and he cradled her shaking figure in the dim light of the moon.


	42. On the White Tower

_Hmm recently some have requested longer chapters...I would have thought that shorter ones would be easier to sit through :) Oh well, I may combine quite a few, but shortly several will be quite brief...for effect! You'll see what I mean in a little bit...:)_

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Nine months along, Wyniel was expecting the baby to be born at any time. Unfortunately, Osgiliath had recently been threatened, and Boromir was sent out to suppress the enemy. Although walking much made her ankles swell, Wyniel insisted that she watch the battle from the White Tower. Faramir helped her up the many stairs and they stood holding hands in nervousness. 

"I'm sure he'll be okay." Faramir told her, although he really wasn't sure.

"I have faith in him, but there is always that little bit of doubt that stays within me." Wyniel expressed. Her face showed her anticipation and worry.

Most of the time they were silent, hearing the distant cries and barely audible clang of metal upon metal, but finally, once the cries had subsided, they could see many lines of horsemen ride back to Minas Tirith, those carrying the wounded. The foot soldiers could hardly be seen, but their silver armor glinted in the fading sunlight. They climbed the high places of the city and raised their swords in victory. Throughout the city below Wyniel and Faramir, people from the walls cheered and spread the news - Osgiliath was free of evil once again.

The two on the tower smiled and hugged, but they still had fears to put to rest. So Wyniel went as fast as she dared, and Faramir helped her as best he could, and eventually they had joined the crowd headed for the first gate.


	43. Back to Osgiliath

_Thank you, everybody, for your reviews. I will combine some chapters once these ones I have already uploaded are posted. _

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Many moved aside when they saw the Steward's son leading the wife of the Heir to the front of the crowd. The gates had been opened and the front of the column had already filed in, waving and smiling, most with minor wounds. The crowd cheered for their warriors, courageous and proud, and they tossed flowers at their horse's feet. Wyniel smiled over some heads, faltering now and then when the next line didn't show her husband. Faramir noticed is absence as well and squeezed Wyniel's shoulder. When they both were very nervous, Boromir finally rode through, the very last in the column, his fair face gleaming and his chin high. Wyniel shouted in excitement and squeezed (as well as she could) through the front of the crowd to where Boromir was dismounting. 

"Boromir!" Wyniel shouted, her smile stretched from ear to ear.

Boromir took her in his arms and held the sides of her stomach as they kissed. The crowd cheered for their Noble Son and his blushing wife.

"You must be tired." Wyniel whispered in his ear. Boromir smiled.

"Of course. But I cannot afford to sleep now, I must go back to Osgiliath shortly."

Wyniel frowned. "Will you take me up, at least?" she pleaded. Boromir kissed her and nodded, hooking her arm around his and leading his horse, and the column of knights, up to the Hall.


	44. Houses of Healing

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel sat on the velvet couch in the middle of their suite. Boromir had shed his armor and was changing his tunic, which had become stained with blood and sweat. Wyniel hadn't noticed, had dismissed it for the blood of an orc, the deep stain on Boromir's neck. But when his tunic came off she saw the wound bleed onto his chest and she cried out.

"Boromir, you're hurt!"

Boromir shook his head. "It's nothing, really. I'll be fine." he smiled at her, but Wyniel wasn't convinced.

"Put something else on, we're going to the Houses of Healing right away!"

Boromir disagreed. "They have much more important things to take care of, Wyniel. A scratch is nothing."

"It could _become _something, Boromir. Now do you want to live to see your child born or not? Because if an infection doesn't kill you, then _I _will for not listening to me!" Wyniel smiled jokingly and kissed her husband, making sure to graze the wound. Boromir flinched and smirked at his wife.

"Okay, okay." he surrendered.

So they made their way to the Houses of Healing, a pair of squires carrying Boromir's armor behind them. Wyniel walked in first, and automatically felt weak. The smell of blood was in the air, and everywhere were dirtied rags and red water. Cries issued from the poor men stuck with arrows and cut by swords. Almost swooning, Wyniel took a seat immediately by the door. Boromir kneeled next to her and looked into her eyes, concerned.

"Do you need to go?" he asked.

Wyniel looked up at a dead man who was being carted out on a panel. He was stuck with three black arrows, and his face was as pale as limestone. Her head dropped between her hands and she waved Boromir on. Instead of leaving, however, Boromir lifted his wife and took her into the cooler air outside. The gardens in the Houses of Healing contained calming herbs that soothed Wyniel's nerves for the time. She smiled weakly at her husband, who then went in search for a healer.


	45. The Baby is Coming!

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

She didn't want to leave alone, so Wyniel sent for Faramir to accompany her back to her suite. Boromir had advised her to stay in the gardens until bedtime, saying it would keep her calm. So she leaned on the balcony and watched her husband, surrounded by a dozen guards, ride back into Osgiliath.

Finally Faramir arrived and touched her shoulder. Smiling tiredly, Wyniel turned and let Faramir lead her back to the Hall and to bed. He stayed by her side until she fell asleep, talking about the great battles he would one day lead, and how the fame and honor his brother was receiving would someday come to him, as well. Wyniel smiled and nodded, wishing for Faramir the best of everything. He truly was a wonderful brother.

When she awoke, daylight shone strongly into the room and Boromir was by her side, his hand rested on her swollen belly. The baby kicked a couple of times, making Wyniel jump.

Boromir stirred a little, smiled, and raised his head stiffly. His neck had been stitched and covered in ointment. Wyniel tried not to look at it, fearing the sickness that rose from her stomach.

"Good morning." she whispered. But immediately she clenched her teeth, feeling the tightest cramp in her gut. Rolling over and standing on the floor took a great deal of effort, and when she stood she felt a flood on her feet.

"Boromir!" she cried worriedly. "Boromir, get up please!"

"What is it? What's wrong?" he was instantly on his feet and pulling on his tunic.

"The baby's coming." Wyniel stated, holding her belly like she feared it would fall to the floor without her support. Boromir wrapped her own silver cloak around her quickly, then called out the door for one of the serving women. Before any others came, however, Faramir was there in the doorway, helping to support Wyniel on her way to the Houses of Healing.


	46. A Baby is Born

_Okay, sweet chapter:) _

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

While Wyniel was getting dressed for the delivery and dozens of scurrying women were hanging curtain or fluffing pillows around her, Boromir and Faramir waited outside. Boromir was pacing back and forth, gazing at the door worriedly, pulling his chin, then gazing at the door again. Faramir watched him from a stone bench a few feet away. Both were silent, not knowing what to say at such a moment. Finally, an attendant called the men in, and both rushed to the door. 

Wyniel was standing by a newly made bed, her hair pulled partly back. She was pacing slowly, and when the two emerged she waddled to them.

"They say the baby won't come for a few more hours yet." she smiled and held onto her husband's arm. "So you can run along if you wish." she looked at Faramir, not wanting him to leave.

"Oh, I had no plans for today." Faramir smiled and sat on a chair inside the door. Boromir helped his wife sit on the edge of the bed, and the three talked for hours, until the head nurse asked Faramir to wait outside. The white curtains were drawn around the delivery bed, and Boromir held his wife's hand through the struggle of birth.

Instead of waiting outside, Faramir walked around the Houses of Healing. He visited the soldiers that were still being treated from the battle the day before, and watched the sun set from the gardens. When he finally heard the cries of a baby instead of those of Wyniel, he rushed to the white curtain.

The few women still inside during the delivery awed at the wonder, and Wyniel sighed in exhaustion.

"Would you like to hold your baby?" one of the nurses asked. Faramir couldn't hold his excitement.

"Can I come in now?" he shouted. Wyniel must have nodded because a young nurse smiled as she flung back the curtain to show Boromir holding a bundle. Wyniel flashed Faramir a weak smile. She was drenched in sweat and the sheets were tousled. Faramir noticed spots of blood and looked fearfully at Wyniel, but she told him, as if reading his mind:

"Don't worry. They say I did fine, and we're both perfectly healthy."

Boromir leaned over Wyniel, beaming, and handed her the baby. He walked quickly to his brother and grabbed his soldier.

"Come, brother, and see your nephew."

"Ecthelion." Wyniel added, and turned the child so that he faced the men.


	47. The First Dream

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

A huge feast was held on all levels of the city, and to each Wyniel and Boromir brought their baby boy. It took place a week after the birth, and Ecthelion slept the entire time. Boromir was gleaming in his polished armor and Wyniel glowed in her motherhood. Such a well-behaved baby nobody had ever seen, and all agreed that he would bring just as much honor to his name as the previous Ecthelion.

By the time they had retired to the Hall, Wyniel was exhausted. She shed her silver mantle and stepped out of the maroon dress after Ecthelion was safe in his crib. Boromir took her in his arms and laid her on the bed, kissing her neck. She smiled but pushed him playfully away, begging for rest.

"I'm tired as well." Boromir told her. "The new recruits have to be assigned armor tomorrow, anyway, and I must be there."

That night, however, Wyniel tossed in dreams. She walked the entire length of the suite, from the balcony to the baby's crib, seemingly in slow motion. The curtained sunlight made it possible to see the dust in the air, and Wyniel parted this cloud in search of her child. She was in haste, yet feared what the crib held. A few feet away, she recognized something that was not quite the shape of her baby; it was pointed in places and longer in other spots. Drawing back the veil over the crib she screamed. A searing pain shot into her heart as she saw the child; stuck like a pincushion with an arrow in its chest.

She was still screaming when she woke up. Boromir, who had had his arm around her, jumped out of bed and pulled a candle close.

"What is it?" he asked. His face was twisted with worry and his eyes gleamed with weariness.

Wyniel, panting, threw the covers from her and rushed to the baby's side. He was crying, prying at the blanket over his legs.

"Oh!" she gasped, relieved that her baby still looked like himself. She pulled him to her breast and turned to see her husband rush to her side. "It was just a dream."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Boromir asked, rubbing her arm.

Wyniel nodded. "Yes, I'll be fine, just go back to bed."

Boromir hesitated, but obeyed his wife. His sleep was restless, though, in worry, and he kept glancing across the room to his wife, who held their child to her chest for dear life. She stayed like this for the rest of the night.


	48. Ecthelion Grows

_Thanks very much for your reviews!_

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel had no other dream like that nightmare for the next few months, and she had almost forgotten about it.

The five nobles now ate dinner in the Hall at a new table. It was made longer on the sides to fit a mother and her child side by side. Wyniel mashed the peas and carrots on Ecthelion's plate. The child was growing fast, and regular visits to the Houses of Healing assured that he was very healthy and strong. He was the pride in Boromir, even stronger than Minas Tirith, and lived deep in his heart. Wyniel found it hard to be separated from her child, but was overjoyed when she saw the pleasure Ecthelion took in playing with his uncle, Faramir.

Denethor could be seen staring at the child from time to time, making little faces when Ecthelion smiled or giggled, almost smiling himself. He was mostly downcast, however, and had darkened when told the child's name.

"He's only jealous that grandfather couldn't spend all his time with him." Boromir assured Wyniel, who was sure that Denethor hated the baby. "He wanted to be loved more than anything, and grandfather only had so much to give."

"Wouldn't someone say the same about Faramir?" Wyniel protested. The couple were back in their suite, putting the baby to bed.

Boromir didn't say anything, knowing that Wyniel was right.

At one year old, Ecthelion was showing much interest in walking. Faramir had recently been training with the Rangers full time, but whenever he went home he was sure to look in upon Wyniel and Ecthelion, the former holding the child's hands as he waddled from one side of a carpet to the other.

Boromir always found the time to check in on the two during the day. Ecthelion would laugh and clap his hands in delight when his father's whiskers tickled his cheek when he kissed him, which made Boromir smile wide.

"I wish we could take him to the sea." Wyniel expressed one day at lunch. Boromir nodded and gazed at the horizon. He could see the dozens of horses arrayed on the Pellenor, grazing lazily until their masters came back from their own lunch. Ecthelion played with the laces of Boromir's boots, pulling on them for balance, now and then falling forward and hugging the muddied leather. Wyniel gasped and clutched the baby, brushing the dirt from his gown as he giggled.

Boromir laughed as he stood. "I must go now, but it won't be long until dinner." and he kissed both of their foreheads before striding out the door.

Wyniel bounced the baby on her lap, saying softly:

"You'd like the sea. It's beautiful." and then gazing Eastward, toward Osgiliath. "The river might please you. It's cool, and running with bright red leaves this time of year. Would you like to see it?"


	49. The Dream is Real?

_Here comes my favorite part, which is quite sad, really. Tragedy strikes hard..._

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel asked Boromir if Osgiliath was safe to venture near.

"Oh, yes, perfectly. There hasn't been an orc raid in months. Besides, we'll be out on the Pellenor again today, practicing formation, and…" Wyniel didn't hear the rest, it was military mumbo-jumbo that she couldn't care about even if she tried.

"Great! I was hoping to take Ecthelion there today, to see the river. I'll bring a basket so you can eat with us there." Wyniel smiled and kissed her husband in the bright morning on their balcony.

With the kitchen's help, Wyniel packed a light basket with bright red apples, a loaf of bread, and a bit of wine. These she carried in one hand while she supported Ecthelion in the other, and walked across the Pellenor toward Osgiliath.

There was little wind that day, and far off she could see Faramir with his Rangers practicing archery near the wall of Minas Tirith. On her other side and not so far away was Boromir on his splendid horse, leading the men through a tight formation. Wyniel smiled and bounced Ecthelion as she set the basket down in the short grass, partly behind some reeds growing on the riverbank.

"I came here often, when I was younger." she told Ecthelion, who longed to be set down. He ran his fingers through the grass and giggled at the reeds, which were taller than him. After some wandering he returned to his mother, stumbling a little. Wyniel laughed and kissed his forehead as she tickled his fat stomach. The boy convulsed in laughter, his soft brown hair swinging and his grey eyes, like his father's, shining. Oh, how Wyniel loved that boy, and hugging him close to her chest, she stood up to show him the red leaves floating lazily in the water.

Just then a shadow also stood across the bank, and a cry of shock issued from Wyniel as the bowstring snapped.


	50. What the Soldiers See

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Boromir wasn't the only man to look at the river at the same time.

The entire formation was focused in that direction, and the ones in front were close enough to see the dark orc stand up among all the gleaming white. Most jumped and thought they were seeing images, but one quick hand blew the Horn of Gondor when he saw Wyniel stumble.


	51. One Orc's Target Practice

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

"Time for some target practice?" one orc laughed to himself. He had been sent with little supplies and only a bow for defense to scout the city of Osgiliath when the guards were absent. When he saw the mother and child sitting by the river, well, he gave up subtlety for fun.

So stringing his bow and pulling back one black arrow he jumped from behind a ruined fountain and shot.

"Yes!" he growled as he saw that the arrow had hit the baby at his mother's breast.

But just then he noticed the horses charging from across the field.


	52. Ecthelion's End

_Thanks for your enthusiasm, Jedi :) But just wait, it gets worse..._

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel felt like she had been hit with a brick. Her mouth agape, she could only stare at the figure across the river. She had stumbled backward but hadn't fallen, still clutching her child to her chest. She hadn't even heard the horses galloping up behind her, but the sight of one giant stallion in front of her broke her concentration. The orc was now running away, and several men on horseback were chasing him. But Wyniel didn't care, she was too much concerned, and confused, about what had just happened. So out of care, Wyniel looked down to make sure Ecthelion wasn't hurt.

She cried out when she saw the thick black arrow sticking out of his back.

Boromir was the first to reach his wife. He jumped off the saddle right in front of her, and froze when he saw the two: Wyniel seemed lost, staring blankly into the distance with her mouth open. She blinked and looked down, then cried out in alarm. Boromir approached her, gently touching the hair of his child's head. He didn't move: Ecthelion's arms and legs were limp, and his white gown began to turn red.

Boromir cried.


	53. An Orc is Captured

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The horses had crossed the bridge, and the orc, upon seeing them, turned and ran. He dodged among ruins and fallen statues, through houses and arches, until finally he found a sewer. Thinking he had given the men on horses the slip, he slowed, cackling to himself over the great fun he had had.

But a hand about his throat stopped him, and he was pulled backward by a tall man in brown leather.


	54. The Lady is Hurt!

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The Rangers had heard the horn and ran toward the river, bows at the ready. Their quick feet arrived just after the others emerged with the orc, struggling and biting at his captors.

Boromir was bent over Wyniel, still holding the dead child in her arms, but now sitting on a piece of stonework that had been placed there by one of the soldiers. Both nobles bawled, and some soldiers wiped the tears from their eyes, as well. Faramir saw the scene, worried, then pushed others aside to get to his brother and sister-in-law. When he saw the limp baby, stuck by an arrow, he dropped to his knees and cried with them.

Boromir saw the soldiers arrive with the orc, and breaking through the crowd as he unsheathed his sword, he slashed the orc open from armpit to hip. Sticking it with his gleaming sword, Boromir shouted and cried his woe until the orc was nothing but a black mangled mess on the grass. Then dropping his sword he ran back to his wife, who had just about collapsed.

Wyniel heard the screams of both her husband and the monster, and feeling faint, she wished for Boromir to return to her side. Her eyes were streaming with tears, and it was then that she realized that her chest hurt, but not only from the convulsive crying. It took all the courage she had to pull the child from her breast. But as she did so, she felt her skin move apart and jerk. The low neckline was stained with blood, and looking upon it, then her child, Wyniel saw that the arrow had passed clean through her baby and had pierced her.

"The lady is hurt!" one man cried. Boromir was by her side again, and he touched her shoulder, above the wound, and called for a horse. He lifted her onto the tall steed, still holding Ecthelion, although she held him cradled instead of clutched, and rode with several guards (and Faramir not far behind) to Minas Tirith.


	55. Shock in the Houses of Healing

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Hundreds of spectators crowded the walls. They had heard the horn and went running, the guards all alert and ready. When one cried that he saw the Steward's son and his wife riding back to the city, everyone wondered what had happened. But as the group drew closer, people gasped equally in terror. The black arrow was easily seen.

The people were silent as the shocked couple rode up the streets to the Houses of Healing. Women cried at the sight, and children gasped. Some recognized the occurrence and immediately hung their black flags: an heir had died.

Once inside the Houses of Healing, Wyniel collapsed onto the floor, still protecting her child from the fall. She wouldn't let him go, but didn't need to. The nurses could tell that he was dead and there would be no remedy. Wyniel herself, however, was bleeding from the chest and needed attention. The would was shallow, but deep enough to infect. After a long time, Boromir was able to take Ecthelion into his own arms, and Wyniel was cleaned and stitched, the entire time staring at her lost child.


	56. Three Days

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

For two days Wyniel refused to eat. She sat in a cushioned chair by a window and stared at Ecthelion, cleaned and dressed in his crib. When she nodded off to sleep, the vision of the orc and her stuck baby appeared. She would wake suddenly, thinking it was all a dream, but upon reaching for her child would find that he was still, pale, and cold.

Boromir watched this from nearby. He would occasionally touch his wife's shoulder, but she gave no reaction.

Finally, on the third day, Ecthelion's funeral was to take place. The city had put up nothing but black flags, and women wept for the lost child, so innocent! Boromir, who had also very little sleep, crept to his weeping wife and kneeled before her.

"We must put him to rest." Boromir choked back his own tears.

Wyniel, after a time, shot him a glance of pure sorrow. She stared for a few moments, then spoke:

"I'm sorry, Boromir. I've killed our son."

"No," Boromir rubbed her arm. "It was an accident. Wyniel, nobody is to blame." Wyniel couldn't believe this; she only shook her head. Boromir continued. "If anyone should take responsibility, it should be me." Wyniel looked up. "I told you it was safe to go out there."

There was silence until Wyniel took Boromir in her arms and whispered:

"It's not your fault."

A couple minutes slipped by until Boromir lifted Wyniel. "We have to ready. Our son deserves the honor of our pity." he said. Wyniel only nodded, wiped her eyes, and began to dress.


	57. The Funeral of a Child

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel wore a dress of the deepest black and a veil that fell to her ankles. Boromir was bedecked in a robe of sable fur that fell over his silver armor. The entire city walked behind them, dressed in their darkest best, and this somber procession filed out of the city and marched toward the river.

Dozens of guards stood watch over Osgiliath and the river where a small boat was docked. Wyniel, the pale child in her arms, wept silently with a high-held chin. Boromir was beside her, and she could hear the footsteps of Faramir and the creak of his leather armor, studded with Obsidian. Denethor's heavy breaths gave her the image of his stern face, but she was glad that he attended. Finally at the river, the four nobles halted and turned to face the crowd. The fifth departed noble lay still in his mother's arms. He was dressed in a glittering silver, and gold shavings were sprinkled on his head.

"Weep, citizens of Minas Tirith, for today you send off a lost child." Denethor shouted. All could hear the strain in his voice: he was mourning. "He would have been your Steward, a great leader and honorable man. But alas, he was taken, far too horribly and far too soon."

The tears ran down Wyniel's cheeks and fell to her feet. Boromir had silent tears as well. Wyniel couldn't see, but she knew Faramir would be mourning greatly. The citizens, all of the women and most of the children and men, were weeping, brushing their eyes with black handkerchiefs.

The guards in Osgiliath gave a wild cry: "Ecthelion!" thrice they shouted, and Wyniel grasped her boy tighter. She didn't want to let him go, but Boromir, who had grabbed her arm, led her to the small boat. The wind took her veil and lifted it, allowing mother and child to be face-to-face, and her tears dropped onto his chest. She laid him in the little boat, and Boromir, kneeling over the water, untied the rope. The gentle waters carried him downstream, among the leaves, which were no longer red, but brown.

"I told him I'd show him the sea." Wyniel said, almost in a whisper.

Boromir placed his arm around her waist. "He'll love it. The sea will be calm for Gondor's son."


	58. What Could Have Been

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel was largely unresponsive for the next day. The city was in a state of mourning, and Wyniel led them. She stared blankly out the window that overlooked the river, and once the sun had set, she climbed silently into bed and grasped Boromir's arm for dear life.

"I feel so empty." she sighed.

Boromir said nothing, just held her tighter, and neither slept that night.

The next day, military and civilian life went on as normally as possible. Black flags whipped in the wind among bartering heads, and Boromir supervised cavalry formation on the Pellenor. Wyniel, however, was kept company by Faramir, whose Ranger company that he was training with had been called out, leaving the recruits out of danger. They mostly walked around the courtyard, occasionally studying the company on the field. Faramir could only be reminded of the rush to the river, though, and he knew Wyniel felt the same.

Boromir was having his own dream-like memories return to him, but being a strong soldier, he put them to the back of his mind.

Their dinner was somber, silent, and sustained. The smaller table had not yet been restored, so Boromir placed his chair next to his wife and Winmund was called to dinner to fill the empty space. At least Wyniel was eating, though.

A few weeks later, Boromir's company was called to defend Osgiliath from a group of orcs on the other side of the river. Winmund and Faramir were with their Ranger group, patrolling the trees miles from the city. Wyniel was left alone to wander.

Going first to the lower levels, Wyniel kept close to the wall in order to see the Pellenor. On the fourth level, however, she was stopped by a woman very close in age to Wyniel.

"My lady." the woman smiled gently at her. Wyniel did the same, glancing around the steps of the house where they stood. There were herbs strung from wires and the smell of chicken emanated from the open doorway. The wind blew and both shivered, Wyniel underneath her husband's cloak, the woman under her thin wool. Wyniel glanced nervously toward the field.

"Do you worry for the soldiers?" the woman asked. Wyniel nodded.

"Is your husband with them?"

The woman smiled timidly and nodded. "Yes, but we shouldn't worry. Our men are strong."

Wyniel nodded. "But there will always be that hint of doubt. I know that Boromir is a wonderful leader, but he is mortal."

"Indeed, we are all mortal." the woman agreed. Just then a small child of about four years ran from the house. He clutched a wooden dagger and shouted with hysterical laughter. Wyniel looked upon this child with wonder. She could only be reminded of her lost son, who may have played in the same way.

"I must go." Wyniel muttered, and briskly made for the Steward's Hall.


	59. The Dreams Return 1

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

"Orcs are becoming more and more persistent. They are becoming a danger to our borders." Boromir reported to his father.

Wyniel listened from behind the large main doors. Boromir had returned unhurt, but a few men were dead, much to the sorrow of the city. The orcs proved tougher than everyone thought, and the battle carried on for much of the afternoon.

"There will be many more tests of Gondor's will. This is nothing." Denethor replied.

"Father," Boromir began, "we lost a dozen men. Such a group of orcs should not have claimed that many."

"Then you should prepare with better skill. Believe me, son, much worse than that ragged band will threaten Osgiliath in the future."

Boromir nodded, down struck, and exited the hall. He stopped next to Wyniel.

"There will be funerals tomorrow." he stated. She grabbed his arm and they walked toward the Houses of Healing.

Inside lay about twenty men, some groaning, some unconscious. They made the rounds, offering bits of comfort and blessings of honor. Wyniel faced it with a stone visage, hardened by her son's death. But then she saw the woman, the one who Wyniel talked to outside her house. She cried over the still body of a bloody man. Detaching from her husband, Wyniel went to the woman's side. She wrapped an arm around the shaking shoulders and waited until they calmed. When it was all done she ate dinner and retired to bed.

That night a dream woke Wyniel. There was a deep fog covering the Pellenor, and Wyniel was standing near Osgiliath. The leaves floating in the water were no longer in sight than they disappeared. Ghostly voices echoed around Wyniel in the dampness, and she thought she heard horses galloping a long way off. What sounded like a bowstrings release and many arrows flying made Wyniel jump, and she lost her balance and began to fall. Before she hit the ground she was awake.

"What is it?" Boromir asked groggily. Wyniel was soaked to the skin, so she jumped out of bed and threw a log onto the fire before stripping out of her nightdress. Boromir raised himself onto his elbow and looked questioningly at his mute wife. She was rushing across the room in seemingly aimless haste until she halted by the wide window. Throwing open the shutters she gazed at the moonlit Pellenor, hidden by a settled fog.

Not sure what the dream meant, Wyniel slipped silently yet cautiously back into bed.


	60. The Dreams Return 2

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

For a year, life in the Steward's Hall went on as normal: Faramir would be in Ithilien with the Rangers, Boromir would help lead the infantry and cavalry, and Wyniel would read from books, visit the city, or tidy her suite. She wasn't plagued by any more nightmares, until the moon was full once again, and fog shrouded the Pellenor.

In her dream, Boromir was dressed in his riding gear. His leather surcoat was covered in mud, and his face was dirty and tired. He seemed much older.

Boromir was running through a leafy wood, his sword unsheathed, and what sounded like waterfalls could be heard from a distance. Wyniel stood as an onlooker amid the trees, and what Boromir ran to was hidden by fog. It was after she had given up peering into the mist that Wyniel felt a bundle in her arms. She was holding Ecthelion.

That morning when she awoke, Wyniel told Boromir of this dream. He dismissed it as nothing.

"It's just a dream, Wyniel. You know that. It cannot be true, become true, because…" Boromir stopped himself.

"But Boromir! Just before…that, I had a dream about _him_. It was just the same!"

"Wyniel!" Boromir was almost shouting. "He's dead! Ecthelion is dead!" he saw the hurt in his wife's face and moved toward her, softening. "You couldn't have been holding him."

Wyniel crossed her arms and buried her face in his chest.

"I'm sorry." Boromir whispered, kissing the top of her head.

"Just be careful." Wyniel told him. He nodded and readied for the day.


	61. Wyniel's End 1

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

When no ill events hurt Boromir or Wyniel for quite some time, Wyniel's heart was at ease. She hardly thought of her nightmares at all, but instead put herself to work among the Hall. Many months passed until the summer waned and a chill was in the air. It had been two years since Ecthelion's funeral, and Wyniel was aching for the company of her child. She had tried many times to forget about his death, but the ruined city was just within her sight, and Wyniel felt the urge to return. Boromir was stubborn and refused to let her out alone, and kept insisting that it was unhealthy to lament for so long. But still, Wyniel was much aggrieved by her loneliness, and finally persuaded Boromir to accompany her to the river.

So standing on the bank where she once lost her son, Wyniel looked across the water at the vast expanse that stretched toward the mountains. Boromir was behind her, wandering impatiently in the tall grass where their horses were grazing. The wind made Wyniel's cheeks and nose red, and she slowly rubbed them warm in her contemplation. The scene invoked old feelings, but no tears came this time to her eyes. Wyniel felt empty instead, like the breeze echoed inside her chest as it would in an empty barrel.

But when she had flipped her wind-blown hair out of her eyes a strange scene confounded her. A quick flashback to a dream of hers made her heart race, and she heard the frightened trot of horses' hooves but saw only the blue sky stretched above her.

She couldn't breathe.


	62. Wyniel's End 2

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

Wyniel had seen the orcs. She hadn't recognized them, rather seeing the few black shapes appear where there was only grey rock before. Her eyes popped and her heart raced, hearing the bowstrings snap and the arrows whistle. Finally she recognized the azure sky, speckled with gathering clouds, and heard the sound of horse's feet.

Boromir turned when he heard the arrows. He saw his wife stumble and fall heavily backward, her dress billowing strangely in front of her as she did so. He sprinted quickly to her side, glimpsing the black shapes across the river. He was confused and frightened when he saw the arrows, but not his wife, lifting up and down through the grass.

His decorated shield he rested at Wyniel's feet when he found her. She was pierced three times in the chest.


	63. Wyniel's End 3

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

The orcs, three of them, were in a group. They were left behind that morning when the sun rose quickly on their company, and took shelter in the shadow of a house. Their fear of the sun was forgotten when they saw the Gondorian maiden standing in plain view on the shore.

All arrows had hit their mark. The three smiled to each other in victory, but frowns of fear overtook them when they saw a man appear with her.

"There may be more. Let's go." said one orc, promptly turning and scuttling between one shadow and the next. The others followed suit, slowly creeping from the ruined city.


	64. Wyniel's End 4

_Sappy partings, I couldn't resist!_

_I don't own LotR_

* * *

"Wyniel!" Boromir exclaimed, kneeling next to his gasping wife. 

"Forgive me." Wyniel stuttered. Her breath was strained. As the color began to fade from her cheeks, blood appeared at the corners of her mouth.

"What do you speak of? You talk as if you're dieing." Boromir said. He was beginning to cry.

"I am dead." Wyniel responded. "Please forgive me." tears ran down her own face. "I have brought shame to you, where honor was needed." her words were slow and gasped from her lungs. She coughed weakly and a drop of blood appeared on her tongue.

"No." Boromir supported her pierced body in one arm and held her hand with the other. "You have given me _life_, and love. You've brought me peace." Boromir's tears dropped to the ground next to Wyniel's pale face. The horses approached timidly.

"Ever did I love you, Boromir, and try to please you. My foolishness brought me my end. Kiss me!" she gasped. "Kiss me before I go."

And Boromir did, and their tears were mixed upon each other's cheeks. Trying very hard for her breath now, Wyniel rasped.

"I can hear the music, but I leave my heaven and its angel instead of approach it." she smiled faintly, but coughed again.

"Please don't leave me!" Boromir pleaded in vain. "I love you." he cried, but Wyniel looked him in the eyes and answered:

"Kiss me. We'll look over you. Our son needs his mother. Kiss me." Boromir kissed her, and she relaxed in his arm. Her grip loosened on his own, and she was dead.

Boromir held her for several minutes, listening to the silence only disturbed by the running water and the creeping horses. They whinnied lightly, almost mourning their rider.

Standing abruptly and proud, Boromir turned his sight to Osgiliath. Already out of the city, Boromir could see some shapes fleeing under the shadow of a cloud that stretched over the mountains to the east. Quickly jumping on a horse, Boromir galloped to the shapes, which turned out to be three small orcs. Leaping from the horse he sternly slew all three, separating each of their heads from their bodies, and piercing them from chin to crown on his blade. With this gruesome scepter he sent the extra horse, Wyniel's, back to Minas Tirith, and on his own he carried his dead bride.


End file.
